


Time with you

by AiraKT



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Pining, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiraKT/pseuds/AiraKT
Summary: And now in Keiji’s first summer break after his own graduation Bokuto had grinned at him that familiar grin and asked Keiji to join him on an adventure.Keiji had agreed without a second thought.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 17
Kudos: 64





	Time with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carxies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carxies/gifts).



> I love you

It was a sweltering hot day when he stood in front of his door.

The sun was beating mercilessly onto the pavement, the air heavy with the steaming water evaporating from last night’s rain, cicadas’ cry a steady background noise. It was the kind of day where you only wanted to lie in front of a fan and not move.

Keiji had still been in his bed when he’d heard the doorbell, thrown on a t-shirt – groaning internally at how it clung to his sweaty skin – and made his way through the apartment. He hadn’t been asleep exactly, just lying there for a half an hour or something, staring at his ceiling and thinking about all the things he’d procrastinate today, until the guilt was heavy enough to make him sit at his desk in the evening.

His parents were at work and his sister spent her holiday with her boyfriend in some fancy hotel, so it was kinda Keiji’s duty to answer the doorbell. Although if he didn’t expect a package he might just have not moved.

“Yeah?” he croaks into the intercom.

“Hi, it’s Bokuto, is Keiji there?”

\---

A few minutes later Bokuto Kotaro is standing in the door leading to Keiji’s room, leaning onto the frame, and watching him with that big grin of his.

Keiji is packing. He can’t quite believe it, but he is packing his bags to “go on an adventure” as Bokuto had put it. It was truly embarrassing how quickly Keiji had given in to the idea of joining his old senpai on a few days trip up north.

Especially considering how they hadn’t seen each other in over a year. Or even communicated with each other in several months.

When Bokuto had graduated and joined one of Japan’s most prestigious sports universities he had been so incredibly busy. They had tried to keep communication going steady, meeting up a few times in the first few months. But then preparation for tournaments started for both of them, Bokuto struggling to keep up with his academic load, and Keiji slowly realizing that he was in his last school year and that he had to prepare for- Everything. And they didn’t have time to meet anymore. And they stopped texting as regularly, the last conversation in their chat history was an “Hi – How are you – Busy, you – Yeah, me too” and Keiji just didn’t know what to say for so long that it had become awkward to even try and get their desultoriness back.

And now in Keiji’s first summer break after his own graduation Bokuto had grinned at him that familiar grin and asked Keiji to join him on an adventure.

Keiji had agreed without a second thought.

\--- 

“Where are we going?” Keiji asks, probably way too late. They are already out of Tokyo.

Bokuto’s car is an old Yaris, possibly older than Keiji himself, groaning loudly when Bokuto speeds up on the highway as much as he can. The trunk had been a hassle to close, the radio has a weird static that Bokuto swore hasn’t been there a few weeks ago and he just couldn’t get it to stop, and the rear mirror has to be readjusted every few hours, cause it keeps tilting downwards with every too big bump in the road. At least the AC is working, even if it whirrs in protest.

“I don’t know yet. Just, north.”

Keiji turns to Bokuto in surprise. “You don’t have a plan?”

Bokuto flashes him a quick grin, before turning his gaze back to the street, eyes focused and concentrated.

For a moment Keiji wants to protest, but out comes only a small snort. He relaxes back into his seat. “There are some nice beaches, if we keep going north-east,” he provides, looking out of the window and watching the small villages fly by.

Bokuto only hums noncommittal. “How’s uni?”

“It’s fine,” Keiji answers with a small sigh, fiddling with his fingers. “Most courses are ok, a lot of reading, but I expected that from literature courses. I feel like most professors are still coddling us, cause we’re first semesters and everyone expects that half of us quit soon. One of them is a bitch” – Bokuto snorts – “but I guess everyone has them.”

“Shitty professors? Yeah, they’re everywhere.” Bokuto nods, setting the indicator to switch lane and speed past a truck. “And apart from that? You’re still playing?”

“No.” Keiji sees the surprise on Bokuto’s face, sees the way he stares at him for a moment, a question already on his lips. “There just wasn’t really anywhere to join,” he explains quickly. He’s aware that it’s a shallow excuse, but he isn’t willing to- isn’t willing to explain. Explain the way it had felt, without Bokuto. The way it had been- lacking. Not the same.

Keiji could’ve easily joined some local team, either to play casual or even more serious. He was really good, had proven it countless times, had been the main setter of a team that successfully participated in the nationals, for two years.

But Keiji’s last year in high school just hadn’t been the same. They were still good, they still reached the nationals, but it wasn’t-

It just wasn’t the same.

“How is your team?” he asks instead of explaining.

And as he expected Bokuto grins, wide and happy and starts talking. He’s excited and energetic, just as Keiji remembered, even if it is a bit more subdued than before. If it is because he’s still driving and can’t gesticulate as much, or if he’s just matured, Keiji doesn’t know. But he’s sitting there, listening to his old senpai being excited and happy, and smiles.

\---

Keiji is aware that he’s staring, has been for a while now.

They are at a rest stop, eating lunch in a small fast-food establishment next to the highway. The beach they’re currently going for isn’t far anymore, but they were getting hungry and Bokuto has been driving for a few hours.

Keiji is aware that he’s staring. He was lowkey staring during the drive, but only so much that it wasn’t too obvious. He turned to the street and out of his own window often enough to not be weird, but now sitting across from each other, having finished their food and just resting for a little, he couldn’t really distract himself enough to not stare.

Bokuto really still looks the same. He grins the same, wide and infectious, comfortable in a way that made you want to join. His hair is the same, dyed, fully gelled in a way that makes him still look like a high schooler. His eyes bright and ever curious – and capturing when his gaze is focused on you, pinning you on the spot with the entire amount of his attention. Now he is relaxed, leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on something outside, a small smile on his lips.

He also looks a little different, in the way that he seems more relaxed, less like he would vibrate out of his skin in the next second. His chin is a little sharper, his face having lost a bit of the childlike qualities. He looks more in his twenties than in his teens now, not really mature, not yet, but- more mature. He fills out his shoulders a bit better, having grown even taller in the year they haven’t seen each other. His muscles seem even more prominent, his shirt snug in the way it hugged his torso, his biceps bulging out of the short sleeves in a way that-

Keiji looks outside the window, his cheek in his palm, willing the heat in his ears away.

“You wanna go?” Bokuto asks, unaware of Keiji’s mini crisis, and with a small nod they’re out of their seats.

\---

It isn’t really a crisis because his attraction to Bokuto isn’t anything new.

Bokuto is talking about his new friend group, people he met during uni, a few drunk adventures he’s already had. Keiji laughs along to the more ridiculous things and tries to remember the various names to keep all of it connected somehow.

They’re on the beach, having grabbed a spot under one of the sunshades by pure luck. Already having gone for a small swim, they’re just lying on their towels, sweltering in the heat and Keiji’s watching Bokuto as he animatedly swings his arms around in an explanation of how big the crowd was that was watching his two drunk friends performing an impromptu striptease.

Keiji is- listening. Kinda. His attention might be a bit more focused on _watching_ but he is still listening. And you can’t see his eyes through the sunglasses.

His attraction to Bokuto really isn’t anything new. Keiji was aware that he is pan since he was fifteen, being completely supported by a family that keeps discussing the unnecessary amount of importance society puts on gender. He’s attracted to people, not their gender, and it had always felt right to think that way. He might also be attracted to muscles, and as a high schooler he turned his attraction to not only most of the Avengers cast, but also to Bokuto. Because he had those. Muscles.

Bokuto had a lot of muscles.

Keiji also is aware that it is more than that, more than a physical attraction, because while Bokuto is handsome and has muscles, he is also funny, and kind, and caring in his own, loud and boisterous way, and is always pushing to be better, and some people might find that annoying. Keiji doesn’t.

He has a lot of thoughts about Bokuto, but it was rarely that he’s annoying.

“Akaashi?”

The worried tone snaps Keiji out of his thoughts and he looks back to Bokuto’s face. “What?”

And the entire intensity of Bokuto’s attention is on Keiji, and it makes him swallow, and Bokuto cocks his head to the side, seemingly a little in thought, before he smiles slow and-

Keiji swallows again.

“I asked if you want some watermelon.”

“Yeah,” Keiji croaks, suddenly parched. “Watermelon sounds good.”

\---

Google maps leads them to a small hostel and after getting a room and placing their stuff they go out for dinner and a drink.

Their conversation flows comfortably in a completely different way than it did two years ago. They can enjoy the silence in between topics without anyone having the need to fill it, and Keiji likes it. He likes it a lot.

They’re talking about old stories from their time as teammates, reminiscing like it’s been decades and not a year and a few months. Bokuto has told him about his new team and friends all day long, and suddenly, like an annoying itch on his skin, Keiji wonders why.

“Why what?” Bokuto asks a bit confused, and Keiji realizes he said that out loud.

And next to the itch something different rises in Keiji, something uncomfortable, something ugly, something like-

“Why do you still dye your hair?” He forces a grin. He fiddles with his fingers.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto whines in that way that Keiji has heard so often he sometimes dreams of it. “Why would you say that? I look cool!”

Keiji laughs in a way that obviously is meant to be teasing, and Bokuto continues to whine, and Keiji pushes the annoying ‘why me?’ far down his throat.

\---

“Akaashi!” Bokuto calls, his voice full of excitement.

They’re back on the beach, wanting to enjoy it for a bit longer before they get back into the car and head further north. Although they don’t know what they’ll find there.

Keiji has a very distinct feeling about what that excitement has to mean.

“Look! There are some people playing volleyball! Let’s ask if we can join.”

Keiji actually groans a little “I thought we wanted to relax a bit more,” but he has not a shred of doubt that Bokuto will convince him, so he stands up and doesn’t even try.

The men, all a few years older than them, are happy about more players, but after Bokuto proudly announces that he and Keiji have played together in the high school nationals, they get put into two different teams. “To keep it fair.”

It is fun, very fun. Keiji loves playing volleyball.

It is very different from what he’s used to, not just because there is sand underneath his feet and everyone is an adult, while he’s only in his first year of uni. It’s relaxed and casual, and although Bokuto gets a few approving whistles for his spikes, the competition stays friendly.

And after a break they decide to switch up teams and one of the guys selects them both for his team. And Keiji plays volleyball with Bokuto.

And it clicks, and Keiji is laughing and having fun, and he’s concentrated, and everything goes back to instinct and training, and it just _works_. Everyone can see how well they work together, how Keiji just knows how to set the ball for Bokuto.

And then they’re at match point, the ball falls beautifully to Keiji, and he watches how Bokuto jumps up for the spike, trusting that Keiji will toss him the ball, and when he does Bokuto’s palm connects to a perfect spike.

Keiji’s heart is racing, adrenaline and endorphins racing through his system. Bokuto turns to him and he grins, and Keiji grins and he’s happy, and suddenly Bokuto lifts him into a tight hug.

In that moment Keiji understands, understands even more, why his last year was different, why it had felt wrong. Because this was it.

This was _it_.

And Keiji is confused why his heart feels like it’s breaking a little.

\---

Keiji is quiet.

They’re in the car again, driving further north, and Keiji knows that he’s quiet and he knows that Bokuto knows he’s quiet. He’s glad that Bokuto doesn’t ask because he doesn’t know how to answer.

“Oh, look, there seems to be a festival,” Bokuto points out after two hours on the road.

Keiji sees the signs Bokuto is talking about, for a city not too far. “That sounds like fun.” He means it. He wants to have more fun with Bokuto, wants this trip to be a happy memory.

Once again Bokuto’s face splits into a grin. “Nice,” he simply says and leaves the highway to drive into the city.

They’re quiet again, though Bokuto hums a little under his breath, along to the pop song playing on the radio, only interrupted by the weird static. And it’s probably the fact that Bokuto won’t be able to properly look at him that makes Keiji say, “I like spending time with you.” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt.

The humming stops, and Keiji doesn’t dare to look at Bokuto, doesn’t want to find out what kind of expression he makes. Keiji knows that the old Bokuto would’ve gloated at that, would’ve puffed his chest, and said something like “Of course, I’m amazing!” But this isn’t the old Bokuto. It kinda is, but it isn’t.

“That’s good,” Bokuto says after a few moments and Keiji hears the grin. “Otherwise this whole thing would’ve really sucked for you.”

And he’s laughing, and Keiji chuckles with him, let’s out a small “Yeah,” and leans his head on the window.

\---

The festival is big and loud and full.

Bokuto loves it.

His eyes are wide, and he’s excited, pulling Keiji from one stall to the next, not unlike a child wanting to see everything at once and lacking the patience to go one stop at a time.

Keiji’s heart is soaring.

He lets himself be pulled along easily, accepts all the food that Bokuto shares with him without a second thought – maybe a few complains about “I’m full, I can’t eat anymore” – watches, and sometimes gets coerced into participating in, definitely rigged festival games, and just soaks up the atmosphere of fun, of living in the moment.

Happiness is the one thing that Bokuto suits the most, Keiji decides. And he’s aware that he would’ve had fun being here with his friends or his family, but it wouldn’t have been this glee, this giddiness of being on the receiving end of Bokuto’s grin.

And when Bokuto takes his hand to pull him to the next stall, Keiji’s heart stutters.

And when Bokuto doesn’t let go, it races.

\---

“I’ve never seen you drunk before.”

The alcohol prices at the festival were – as expected – horrendously high, so Bokuto and Keiji had made their way into the next 7-Eleven and bought some booze. Not enough to get them shit-faced, but enough to get them both pleasantly drunk. 

Although, Keiji reevaluates for a moment, the way his thoughts are already swimming a little, still giddy from the festival atmosphere, and the way Bokuto’s cheeks are glowing, it definitely looks like they’ve maybe overestimated themselves. Not that they particularly care.

They’re sitting in the opened trunk of Bokuto’s car, parked close enough to the festival ground that the sounds are washing over, the light are glittering and twinkling not too far away, and a few strollers keep walking past, not giving them any attention.

But far enough away that Keiji is very much aware of the intimate bubble they’ve created for himself.

“That’s because I was a minor,” Keiji answers, taking another swig of his beer bottle.

Bokuto snorts. “No, because you were so adamant of convincing everyone that you’re a goody-two-shoes.”

Keiji’s brows come together in a squint. “I’m not. A goody-two-shoes.”

“Oh, I know.” Bokuto is grinning still, fixing him with a stare that makes a little heat rise up Keiji’s spine, and makes him draw up his defenses against the next teasing simultaneously. “But you still always did you’re very best to convince everyone else of the contrary.”

“Well, someone had to keep the team in check.”

Bokuto pouts a little. “You’re saying I was a bad captain.”

“No, I’m not.” And Keiji knows Bokuto is still teasing, knows the tone of his voice and the fake downturn of his lips, but- “That’s _not_ what I’m saying.” He’s leaning forward, an insistent hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, his brain sluggishly trying to formulate words to make it clear that Bokuto was the best captain they could’ve had.

“Thank you,” Bokuto says, his grin returning full force, and only then Keiji realizes he said that last part out loud.

He clears his throat, leaning his back at the side of the trunk again, and looks out to the rows of car. “I just mean that you really were great, as a player and as a captain, no matter what anyone else said.” Because there were people who’d said otherwise, there were always jealous people who criticized others who were better than them. “I’m sure you’re even better now,” he adds with a mutter, more to himself.

And then there is a hand on Keiji’s ankle, and he looks up to see Bokuto’s grin turning into something softer as he watches his own thumb drawing slow circles on naked skin. He hums. “I’m not the team captain.”

“Yet,” Keiji retorts, suddenly feeling a little breathless, his attention captured by the small pressure against his foot.

The red of Bokuto’s ears are definitely his imagination, the streetlights casting weird colors in the night.

And Bokuto’s eyes are always so intense when he fixes one with a look, but they’re almost blazing now, and when Keiji has felt breathless before, he’s now certain that he won’t ever breathe again.

“You always had my back,” Bokuto exhales into the air between them, his body leaning slightly forward. Keiji feels the magnetic force radiating from him. “You were always supporting me and encouraging me.”

And in an ugly moment of clarity and bitterness Keiji’s head hisses _someone else is doing that now in your place, another guy from his new team is tossing to him, encouraging him, and supporting him._

Keiji sits himself upright, turning and setting his feet onto the concrete, erasing any point of contact between them in the process. Suddenly he’s distressfully sober. “We should find a place to sleep.”

Keiji doesn’t dare to look up, but Bokuto is quiet for a moment, his presence seeming to recede into his body again.

“Let’s just sleep in the car, it’s warm enough.”

\---

Keiji is slowly running out of curse word for his past self who neglected his cardio- well, completely.

It’s been just a bit more than half an hour ago, when Bokuto had shaken him awake with an excited glint in his eye and “absolutely have to show you something! Right now, hurry!”

And since then they’ve spent the last hour of the night _climbing_ up a mountain.

Keiji is no idiot, he realizes that Bokuto wants to watch the sunrise with him from the top, but he doesn’t understand why they had to a) walk, b) actually do that, because they had seen sunrises before together.

Sometimes, especially in winter, after morning practice they left the gym to cross the yard to the school building just as the sun was rising. Granted, they weren’t on any hills, and you didn’t see too much of sunrises in Tokyo through all the skyscrapers, and high school boys weren’t the most romantic, so it was always met with groans of disdain for the early hour, but still. They had seen sunrises together before.

They arrive on top of the hill after a short while later, and Bokuto is grinning at him – after a 40 minute hike, _how_ – and Keiji is just glad they haven’t made it north enough to actually be in the mountains yet, or Bokuto would’ve found something higher for them to climb.

(It wasn’t that bad in all honesty, it had only took them so long because Keiji kept complaining, and he had just woken up, and had nothing but a coffee, but Keiji needed _some_ way to distract himself from the thought that Bokuto had waken him up to watch the sunrise together.)

There’s a bench facing the city, and Bokuto promptly sits down, undeterred by the unclean surface. Keiji sits down next to him a few moments later.

They sit in silence, and while it’s not the same comfortable silence from the beginning of their travel – _only two days ago_ , Keiji reminds himself – it’s also not the awkwardness he had caused last night.

In the end it’s, unsurprisingly, Bokuto who speaks first. “Akaashi.” He says lightly, taking one of Keiji’s hands in his own.

Keiji’s eyes are locked on the place of contact, unsure, so very unsure, of whether he should return the gesture.

“I’m really happy you agreed to come with me,” Bokuto braves on, despite Keiji’s lack of reaction. “I really- I like spending time with you.”

Keiji recognizes the sentence as an echo of his own from just yesterday, and his heart clenches painfully.

He takes a deep breath. “Why me?” he asks, taking his hand away and looking directly at Bokuto for the first time this morning.

Bokuto looks a little unsure, out of his depth, and Keiji feels a little sorry for causing this. “I wanted to spend a few days away from the city, before the new season starts.” (With a tiny part of Keiji’s brain he registers Bokuto’s choice to say “season” not “semester” and he nearly smiles at the always so very obvious priorities.) “Just do something solely for myself.”

“Ok, but why _me_?” Keiji repeats. He feels his heart in his throat now, the insecurities that had nagged in the back of his head the last few days – _the last year and six months_ – now demanding all his attention. “Why didn’t you ask any of your new friends? Or your old ones? We weren’t friends, Bokuto-san, we were kohai and senpai, teammates, but not friends! Why-”

Keiji is aware that he’s talking himself a bit into a frenzy and he’s gesticulating more than he ever would, his eyes not daring to stay on Bokuto’s expression, and then they drift down onto the horizon, and the sun is rising.

Its orange and pink hues light down onto the city, whose sparkle is only overshined by the reflections on the river. And Keiji kinda understand why Bokuto wanted to bring him up here, because sunrises in Tokyo could never compare to the way Keiji’s breath is taken away.

“Why now?”

“I- I was busy before.” Bokuto clearly hadn’t expected this reaction from Keiji, or he would’ve at least had a little clue on how to react. But right now he was flailing, trying to keep up with the things Keiji didn’t say. “I know I should have tried sooner, to- to spend more time with you and to just keep seeing you, but I was busy.”

“And you’ll be busy again.” And Keiji hates the way his brain is working, the way he has to _destroy-_ “And you won’t have any time and that’s fine, because what you do is important to you, and it’s how it’s supposed to be.” And it’s been only two days, but Keiji can’t, can’t have the next, what, one week? Two? Before Bokuto’s “new season starts”, not when that’s all.

Why now.

\---

Keiji’s head is devoid of all thoughts.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself the days after- After.

He pointedly doesn’t remember walking down a hill and waiting awkwardly for someone to join him at a car, so he can get his stuff out and walk to the train station.

He pointedly doesn’t remember how someone’s expression had haunted him on the ride back to Tokyo, how he kept blaming himself for ruining something that hadn’t even started, just so that it wouldn’t be ruin by some external force.

He pointedly doesn’t remember the words “Why didn’t you ask me two years ago?” and how they tried to claw their way out of his throat, before turning around and leaving someone on top of a hill alone.

He doesn’t remember anything, because his head is devoid of all thoughts, has been like that for nearly two weeks already.

“For God’s sake, can you _please_ mope somewhere else?”

His sister takes the remote, he has been holding in his limp hand for- he doesn’t know for how long. “You either talk about it, or you mope around where no one sees you. But this whole waiting for sympathy act got old after three days.”

“I don’t want any sympathy,” Keiji says with a scowl, hugging the couch pillow tighter to his chest, his legs as closely to his body as possible. He’s just a small blob on the couch, no need for anyone to interact with him.

But his sister just snorts. “I’m pretty sure you don’t know what you want. Or you would’ve stopped this” – her gesture encapsules his entire body – “and got it already.”

His head hurts, and the way his frown deepens really doesn’t help, but he doesn’t deign that with an answer. He doesn’t want any sympathy. He wants-

He puts the pillow away and stands up, determined to lock himself into his room for a bit longer.

“I just don’t understand you,” his sister sighs, pity in her eyes. “If what happened wasn’t ‘a big deal’ as you claim, then why do you act like a this? I know you were kinda crushing on Bokuto, but I didn’t know a rejection would hit you so hard.”

He doesn’t want her sympathy or her pity.

With a pout he sits down on the couch again, knees to his chest. “He didn’t reject me,” he mumbles after a moment.

His sister understands him anyway, because that’s what you do after knowing each other your entire life.

“He wanted- I think he wanted to ask me out.”

“You think?” his sister asks, after a few long seconds of silence, filled with an unspoken “What the hell?”.

He shrugs.

“And?”

“I didn’t let him. Ask.”

Her disbelieve grows and is nearly palpable. “Why?”

“Because it’s too late.” He makes a big gesture with his arms, as if verifying how big his sentiments are. “Because he’s in a great university and doesn’t have time, and when he’s finished, he will play on a great team and _won’t have time_ and I’m not _there_ anymore!”

“Of course not, you’re here, sulking, and running from relationship problems that don’t even exist yet.”

Keiji scowls.

“You keep going on about time, as if you haven’t just wasted two weeks you could’ve spent with him and denied any time he was willing to give to you.”

And Keiji’s heart clenches because of course he knows.

His sister watches him for a long moment, before she sighs again. “Let him ask,” she says calmly. “Spend some _time_ with him. More than just two days. And talk to him, try, instead of deciding for yourself that it won’t work.”

\---

Keiji really wishes he had more time.

It was still sweltering hot, when he had gone to Bokuto’s parents’ house, realizing that although he knew where it was, he’d never actually been there.

Bokuto’s mom was a kind and sweet lady, and she had recognized him in a heartbeat, crushing him in a hug. She had ushered him to come in, but when he said that he was searching for Bokuto, she had given him an address instead.

He was sharing the flat with other students, Keiji had realized the moment he stood in front of the house. At least that was most likely, especially after someone walked past him to the front door and asked if he was searching for something. Upon mentioning Bokuto’s name the guy had grinned at him and taken him up to the third floor and parked him just inside a flat, before calling Bokuto and disappearing somewhere.

And in this moment Keiji really wishes he had more time to thing about what to say the moment Bokuto appears and breathes a surprised “Akaashi.”

Because now Keiji is standing here in Bokuto’s doorway, staring at his old- friend, really not knowing how to fix this.

Unsurprising, as most often, Bokuto breaks the silence first. “How did you get here?”

“The bus,” Keiji deadpans, out of reflex, before he quickly backpaddles. Bokuto’s mouth quirks into a near smile, but _still_. “No, I mean, I did, but, your mom told me your address.” 

“You spoke with my mom?”

“Yeah, I was at your house. Met her. Asked for your address.” Keiji swallows, he’s so bad at being awkward.

He’s awkward, and it’s bad.

Bokuto, who hadn’t exactly been tense or anything, just surprised, relaxes and graces him with a tentative smile. “You could’ve just texted me.”

His ears flush red and he ducks his head in a little. “I know, but I wanted to talk to you. In person.”

“Ok.”

And Bokuto nods and clearly waits for Keiji to do what he came for, and Keiji is _so awkward_. He’s fiddling with his hands, his gaze is fixated on his fingers, and he really wishes he’d thought about what to say on the way instead of just suppressing panic.

What does one say after not letting the person you’re crushing on ask you out?

With a heavy swallow Keiji lifts his eyes to Bokuto and settles on “I like spending time with you.”

After a second Bokuto sighs softly, his body relaxing even further, his smile turning softer. “I do too.”

“I’d- I’d like to spend more time with you.”

“Are you sure?” With a few steps Bokuto crossed the distance between them and was now standing just and arm length in front of him, looking down softly, but hesitantly.

Keiji shakes his head. “But,” he reaches out, his fingers lightly tugging on Bokuto’s shirt. “I’d like to try. At least. Before deciding it doesn’t work.”

And Bokuto’s smile turn into a big grin, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “It will work.”

Encouraged and a little bit surer Keiji gestures between them, and asks a shy “Can we?”

Without hesitation Bokuto is in his space, and their lips meet in a surprisingly soft kiss. Keiji relaxes into the feeling of being held, his eyes closing contently.

“I wanted a hug,” he says softly into the space between them, and he feels Bokuto’s mouth spreading into another grin.

“Do you want to go out with me, Akaashi? Spend some more time together?”

Keiji smiles and leans forward for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this little something :)


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